The Conversation
by Jeanie205
Summary: After a few months, Clarke has returned to Camp Jaha. Bellamy has so many things he wants to say to her, and to ask her, but he doesn't know where to begin. So they haven't yet had that conversation. In fact, they're not talking much at all. But an unexpected journey might give them the opportunity they need to figure it all out. A 5-chapter story from Bellamy's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was scarcely a month after she'd returned from her walkabout that a Grounder rode up to the gate of Camp Jaha with a request that Clarke of the Sky People attend a gathering of the clans that was to take place in Polis the following week. Bellamy Blake, who met with the Grounder at the camp gate, thought that it sounded not so much like a "request" as a "demand."

"I'll pass the message along," Bellamy told the Grounder, an older man dressed in full battle gear, while at the same time pointing a gun at the man's midsection. They were not at war with the Grounders. No battles had been fought since the defeat of Mount Weather months earlier, but Bellamy was taking no chances. His experiences of Grounder behavior had left a bad taste in his mouth. Above all, he thought, they were not to be trusted.

The Grounder had asked to speak to Clarke personally, and for a moment it looked as though he might argue the point. But the gun Bellamy had pointed at him was apparently persuasive.

"Your leader would be well-advised to attend," the man said finally, scrutinizing both Bellamy and the weapon. "The invitation comes directly from our _heda_ ," he added, as though that should obviate the need for any discussion.

"Lexa has requested Clarke's presence?" Bellamy's brow wrinkled. _Why the hell would Lexa ask for Clarke after what happened at the mountain?_

The man simply stared. "Clarke kom Skaikru will be expected one week from today at the Great Hall in Polis," the Grounder said again. "She may bring others with her if she chooses. Perhaps her second, Belomi kom Skaikru," he said, his narrowed eyes signaling his recognition of the man standing in front of him. Before Bellamy could respond, the Grounder had pulled on the reins of his enormous horse and galloped back towards the forest path.

xxxxxxxxxx

"And that's all he said?" Kane asked. "No reason given for the meeting at Polis?"

When Bellamy shook his head, Kane looked thoughtful.

"Have you told Clarke?" he asked.

Bellamy was silent a moment. "Not yet," he answered finally. "But I would never keep this from her."

"Of course not," Kane agreed. "I just wondered...would you like me to pass it along?"

Kane tried to make the question sound casual, but Bellamy knew it wasn't.

He hadn't talked much to Clarke since she'd returned. After the initial enormous relief that she was back safe and sound, it seemed like there was so much that needed to be said that he didn't know where to begin. Somehow, it had felt like there was a wall between them, and Bellamy didn't know how to get over it. Or through it. Or around it. So maybe, without even realizing it, he'd begun to avoid Clarke, and apparently Kane had picked up on that.

He dodged the man's question now by asking one of his own.

"Shouldn't this be brought before the council?" he asked. "Not that Clarke isn't...free to go wherever she chooses."

Bellamy felt his chest tighten at the thought of Clarke voluntarily leaving again. Not, he admitted to himself, that he'd given her any reason to stay. He'd been polite, friendly even. But after everything they'd been through together, it all seemed so superficial. He wanted his relationship with Clarke to be so much more...substantial than that, but he hadn't yet found the courage to risk telling her that. Or the words to make it happen.

"But if this is meant as some kind of _diplomatic_ mission," he continued now to Kane. "If Clarke is going to be representing us, negotiating for us, shouldn't the council...Abby...weigh in? Take a vote or something?"

Kane's smile barely turned up the corners of his mouth.

"You're on the council, son," he said. "If you, Abby, and I decide this mission might have a positive influence on our relationship with the Grounders, that would be enough to sway the others. And then we'd not only allow it, we'd encourage it."

Kane saw Bellamy's frown and understood why he might be against Clarke taking such a journey. He clapped the younger man on the shoulder and gave him a wry smile.

"I understand how you feel," he said. "But before we start worrying about whether or not the council should approve, let's see if Clarke is agreeable. We'd never consider pushing her to attend, so if she wants to avoid it..." Kane's voice trailed off as he let Bellamy finish the thought in his own head.

Bellamy gave a short nod. "I guess we won't know what she thinks until we ask her," he said finally.

xxxxxxxxxx

She was in med bay. It seemed, since her return, that Clarke was always in med bay. Unless she was sleeping. Or, very occasionally, eating.

Since she'd landed on Earth, Clarke had spent all her time worrying about the welfare of her companions. Or what was left of them. But before - before Finn, before Tondc, before...the mountain - she had divided that time between fixing their broken bodies and being their leader, a task she'd shared with Bellamy.

Since she'd returned to Camp Jaha, she'd buried herself in the healing, spending every day - and sometimes half the night - in the med bay. It seemed clear to Bellamy that Clarke had no interest in picking up the mantle of leadership again. He wondered what she'd think of this request.

When he and Kane entered the med bay, Clarke was just finishing up with a patient. He was not one of the original hundred, but an Arker who had yet to learn about the perils of life on Earth, where the very ground you walked on could be treacherous.

"It's only a sprain," she was saying reassuringly. "But stay off that foot for a few days or it won't heal properly."

The patient, an older man in a guard's uniform, looked sheepish as he left, as though he were ashamed that he'd tripped like a child on the Earth's uneven terrain. Bellamy nodded sympathetically. He remembered how cocky he'd been when they first landed, but he'd soon learned that the planet had mastery over them all and they'd be well-served to remember it.

His preoccupation with the patient had taken Bellamy's attention for a moment, so he was almost startled when he looked up and saw Clarke's surprised gaze on him. _This is stupid_ , he thought. _It's not like I didn't know she'd be here._

Bellamy cleared his throat as he and Clarke continued to stare at one another in uncomfortable silence. He heard Kane's sigh.

"Is something wrong? Have you...hurt yourself?" Clarke's voice broke into the quiet.

Bellamy shouldn't have been surprised that she'd think that, considering this was his first visit to med bay since her return to camp.

Kane sighed again, shaking his head, happy that he wasn't still as young as these two.

"We've had a courier from the Grounders, Clarke," he said. "He came to the gate with a request to see you."

Neither man could have missed the expression of dismay on Clarke's face.

"Don't worry," Kane assured her. "The Grounder is gone now. Bellamy spoke to him and told him he'd pass along the message."

"What did he want?" She turned toward Bellamy as she asked the question, and he could see the apprehension on her face.

Bellamy watched her carefully as he responded, trying to gauge her reaction.

"There's going to be a meeting of the clans in Polis next week and they've...requested...your presence."

"But... _why?"_ she asked, clearly perplexed.

Bellamy shrugged.

"The request came directly from Lexa."

Bellamy saw Clarke's face tighten at the name, which was hardly surprising considering how Lexa had betrayed them all at the mountain. For her to now request Clarke's presence seemed to Bellamy to be the height of arrogance. But then again, that's what he'd come expect from the Commander.

"But...you have no idea why they want me there." She made it a statement and looked to Bellamy for confirmation.

He shook his head. "No, but the Grounder did say that you could bring others with you. Your...second, for instance."

He knew Clarke no longer considered herself a leader, or that she'd ever had such a thing as a "second," but her eyes narrowed when he added that bit of information.

"And were any specific names mentioned?" she asked, her lips curving just slightly, and her arms folding across her chest.

"I may have heard 'Belomi kom Skaikru'," he offered, as his mouth twisted in a wry smile, his eyes drifting downward and then back up again to hold her gaze.

Kane thought it wise to interject himself into the conversation at this point, before the discussion became too...personal.

"Listen, Clarke," he said. "After everything you've been through, neither Abby nor I would try to pressure you into doing this. But, think about it," his voice became excited as he considered the possibilities. "If you go there and meet the other clan leaders, you might be able to negotiate a lasting peace for us. Lexa and the Tree Clan already refer to us as the Skaikru. If we could get that recognition from the other clans, just think what that would mean to our chances of _survival_ here on the planet."

Clarke was silent for a moment. "Does...my mother know about this?" she asked finally.

Kane shook his head. "We - Bellamy and I - wanted to know how you felt about taking on such a responsibility before we told Abby. And I mean it, Clarke. If you don't want to do this, please say so now and we'll understand."

Clarke turned to Bellamy again. "And if I don't show up?" she asked. "Tell me the truth, Bellamy. Did it seem to you as though I had a choice in this?"

"Dammit, Clarke!" Bellamy said, exasperated. "Of _course_ you have a choice. The Grounders can't force you to go. I'd stand in front of the gate myself if anyone tried to make you leave."

Clarke grabbed onto his arm, and heat shot through his whole body. It was the first time she'd touched him since she she'd come back, and Bellamy was practically riveted to the spot.

"I know you would, Bellamy," she said with one of her soft smiles, the first one she'd sent his way in a long time. "But I don't think it's a good idea to antagonize them. And Kane is right. A lot of good could come from this meeting. For all of us."

Clarke pulled her hand from Bellamy's arm and seemed to draw into herself as she made her decision.

"I'll do it," she said. "I'll go to Polis, meet with the clans. But I'm definitely going to need my _second_ ," she added, eyeing Bellamy.

"Of course," he said, nodding, his expression determined. "I'd never have let you go without me."

xxxxxxxxxx

While she was skeptical at first, Abby Griffin eventually understood the wisdom of Clarke accepting the "invitation" to meet with all the Grounder clans at their capital. But, like Kane, she was reluctant to put her daughter through additional trauma after what they'd all so recently suffered at the hands of the Mountain Men.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" she asked Clarke doubtfully. "Are we...would we be asking too much of you after everything you've been through? I don't want..."

Abby paused, choosing her words carefully.

"We just got you back, Clarke," she told her daughter, watching her closely as she placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, an unusual gesture of affection from the repressed Abby. "I just don't want something else to happen...something that would make you feel you had to leave us again."

Bellamy felt himself tense up as he waited for Clarke's answer. There was no way he was letting her wander off by herself again. Ever. Even if he had to tie her down - or tie himself to her. But he wouldn't say that now, here in this company.

Clarke covered Abby's hand with her own and shook her head.

"Don't worry about that, Mom," she said. "I learned a lot of things about myself while I was away, and since I've been back ho...here." She stumbled over the word, as though she didn't know exactly how to characterize Camp Jaha. "I learned that you can't run away from guilt. Or regret. It follows you everywhere, and you just have to learn to live with it. So you might as well be with the people you like. The people you trust."

She glanced at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye, just a fleeting, almost involuntary glance, gone before he could even react to it.

Bellamy worked hard to keep his jaw from dropping as Clarke's words registered. It was more information about her state of mind than anyone had learned since she'd returned several weeks before, as abruptly and unceremoniously as she'd departed. But it filled him with relief to know that she wasn't considering leaving again. Looked like he could stop saving that rope he'd been keeping under his cot. Just in case.

Abby was silent for a moment, then finally nodded her agreement as she turned toward Bellamy.

"What do you think?" she asked him. "Should we send a large contingent with Clarke? A show of force?"

Bellamy considered, eventually shaking his head.

"The camp needs to keep as many bodies as possible right here," he told the chancellor. "Not only for security, but because the weather is finally warm enough to begin building in earnest. But if we could take Lincoln," he continued, "that would be enough. He's been to Polis, knows the way. And he could help us out with all the Grounder mumbo-jumbo that we aren't familiar with. And of course," Bellamy added wryly, "he's not bad in a fight."

"And that's all?" Abby asked. "Just Lincoln?"

Bellamy huffed out a laugh. "I think it goes without saying that where Lincoln goes, so goes Octavia. I'm not stupid enough to pretend otherwise."

xxxxxxxxxx

Despite his current fragile relationship with the Grounders, Lincoln was more than willing to accompany Clarke and Bellamy to Polis. Octavia, to no one's surprise, had other ideas.

"Bell," she said to her brother in exasperation. "Why do you have to go with her? If she wants to answer Lexa's siren call, just let her go on her own."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, O?" he asked, puzzled, because if there was anyone who understood the meaning of the term "siren call," it was Bellamy Blake. But Octavia refused to elaborate, so he shoved the remark away in the back of his mind to be pondered over at a later time.

This bitterness toward Clarke that Octavia couldn't seem to let go of had led to many arguments between the siblings. The disputes had tapered off somewhat as the Sky People struggled through the winter, only to resume with a vengeance when Clarke finally returned to Camp Jaha in the early spring.

Octavia had tried every argument to change Bellamy's perceptions about Clarke, but it had always come down to the same debate, each of them presenting their differing views over and over.

 _It had been his own idea to go to Mt. Weather, he kept reminding her. If he hadn't, they'd never have found a way to turn off the acid fog. Without that, they'd never had gotten close enough to the mountain to release their friends._

 _And Octavia couldn't have it both ways about Tondc either, he'd told her. No one regretted the loss of all those lives more than Bellamy. He hated to think what his body count was now, the total number of lives he'd been in some way responsible for ending._

 _But he was equally sure that he would never have been able to stay hidden - and alive - if the Mountain Men had known about him earlier, if they'd been looking for him for days instead of just hours._

 _"You would have found another way," she'd tell him stubbornly, arms crossed defiantly in front of her, her response never changing no matter how many times they discussed it. "I know you would have."_

 _"What way?" The next line was always his and it, too, never varied. "Clarke had so little time to make that decision, O," he'd say. "I don't_ know _what I would have done in her place."_

 _The argument always ended with him reminding her that if Clarke had decided the other way, and if Bellamy and the others had died as a result, Octavia would probably still be heaping blame onto Clarke. Hating her this time for a different reason._

 _"But I could have_ died, _Bell!" That was always her closing argument. The one she kept hoping would sway him._

 _And his never wavered either. "I know, O," he'd agree, "but you didn't. Maybe if you had I'd think differently about what happened, maybe I'd be able to blame Clarke...hate Clarke..."_

 _"Fat chance of that, big brother," Octavia would huff. And there they'd come to an impasse, with never any resolution, both of them unmoving in their positions._

 _"You can't see her for what she is, Bell," she'd flung at him recently, adding a new line. "You're so blinded by your feelings. She doesn't deserve to have you feel that way about her," she'd added in frustration._

While Clarke was away, Octavia had accused him of brooding. After Clarke returned, Bellamy had watched his sister warily, wondering if her antipathy would become overt, if not physically, then verbally. But for the most part, Octavia contented herself with keeping her eye on the situation. Watching him. Avoiding Clarke. Bellamy had wondered how long it would be before she exploded in frustration.

And now he was asking her to accompany the two of them to the Grounder capital. Bellamy pondered fleetingly if Octavia might just let Lincoln go without her. After all, she was bound to hate every aspect of the trip. Not only would she be required to spend hours in Clarke's company, but she'd be forced to spend a majority of that time watching her interact with her beloved brother.

And if the prospect of those were not enough to turn Octavia's stomach, the idea that they were all answering a summons from the despised Lexa would surely curdle her blood. It was the perfect trifecta of circumstances guaranteed to disgust Octavia. So on reflection, Bellamy thought that she just might opt to stay behind.

But he was wrong. When she failed to sway Lincoln from what he considered to be the right course, Octavia merely heaved a sigh and began hurriedly to pack. Her hatred of Clarke, if that's truly what it was, clearly took a back seat to her love for Lincoln. So there would be four in their party, after all.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lincoln had estimated that it would take them two days of steady walking to reach Polis, necessitating a night spent in the forest. Since the Grounder was well-acquainted with the route to the capital, Bellamy let him take point on their journey, while he himself became the rear-guard. That left the two women in the center of their ambulatory caravan.

At first, Clarke attempted to take advantage of what she saw as an opportunity to engage Octavia in conversation, but after several rebuffs by the younger girl, Clarke drew back, putting plenty of space between herself and the other woman. She slipped so far behind, in fact, that she was essentially walking along beside Bellamy whenever they were not forced into single-file formation by the narrow forest path.

"So are you not speaking to me, either?" she asked in frustration after several minutes of uninterrupted silence.

Bellamy turned to her in confusion. "What do mean?" he asked, answering her question with one of his own.

"Octavia won't speak to me...and now it seems like you won't either," Clarke said.

Bellamy was perplexed by the hurt he could hear in her voice, so much so that he stopped dead in the middle of the path and grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him.

"I'm sorry about Octavia," he said. "I've tried to explain things to her a dozen times...make her understand that being...a leader isn't always easy." He shrugged. "I figure she'll get past it in her own good time."

Bellamy paused, frowned. "But I'm not _not speaking_ to you, Clarke. I just...well, I didn't want crowd you. Haven't wanted to...force conversation on you. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to talk about what happened to you. Is that what you want to talk about?"

She was silent for a moment, reflecting on what he'd said.

"You've tried to explain things to Octavia?" she said. "What things?"

IBellamy sighed. "Mostly about what happened at Tondc," he responded.

"But...you and I...we've never talked about it, Bellamy. How could you know anything about... _why_ I did... _what_ I did?"

"Octavia told me what you said to her. About trying not to give away my position. Not that it was personal," he hastened to add, as he focused on letting her know that he understood her motives were detached. Strictly business. "I know you, Clarke. I know you were only trying to...preserve the rescue plan. Ensure it's success."

Bellamy stopped speaking when he saw the startled look in Clarke's eyes and the faint blush on her cheeks.

"Is that what you think?" she asked quietly. "That it wasn't personal? That I didn't care about your welfare?"

He caught his breath. _How should he answer those questions? Should he say he knew the rescue was more important than he was? Or that he hoped like hell that she gave a damn?_

Bellamy was saved from making a decision about his response by the sound of his sister's voice shouting from several hundred yards down the path.

"Bell! What the hell!" she bellowed from the top of a hill that she and Lincoln had already crested.

Lincoln's voice followed, softer, but still perfectly audible in the quiet forest, even across that distance.

"We cannot stop if we want to cover enough ground today," he reminded them matter-of-factly.

Clarke turned away from Bellamy and took a step along the path toward the two up ahead.

"Clarke," Bellamy said, grabbing her arm lightly. "What...what did you want to talk about?"

Clarke shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Lincoln's right. We shouldn't stop unless it's...important."

She turned again toward the top of the hill.

"Wait!" he said, loath to drop the conversation now that it seemed she might be willing to talk to him. There were so many things they needed to say to one another.

"This conversation isn't over," he said quietly to Clarke's retreating back.

Bellamy watched her walk slowly away, and just as he'd finally decided she wasn't going to acknowledge his remark, she turned and looked at him with a blank face and a quick nod.

He let out the breath he'd been holding. _It's a start_ , he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They'd been walking for ten hours with only a short break for a mid-day meal when Lincoln finally called a halt. They were, all of them, used to walking long distances, but between the pace Lincoln had set and the rough forest terrain, they were exhausted.

Lincoln had explained to Bellamy that he wanted to cover more than half the distance to Polis on the first day so that they could reach the capital on the following day while there was still some daylight. No one wanted to approach a heavily-guarded city after dark, when they could easily be mistaken for attackers.

Bellamy offered to take the first watch, leaving Lincoln to guard them for the rest of the night. Both Octavia and Clarke, in agreement for once, protested that they should share the watch. But Lincoln could see that Octavia was falling asleep on her feet and declared that Clarke must be well-rested for the diplomatic mission that lay ahead of her. With little discussion, the women were excused from guard duty and settled in to sleep as soon as they'd had a quick meal.

Their campsite was well-chosen by Lincoln. An outcropping of enormous boulders surrounded it on three sides, leaving only the fourth side, closest to the forest path, to be guarded.

Bellamy perched on a large log, his rifle resting across his lap, peering out into the clear, moonless night. He'd spent many nights doing just this since they'd dropped down to Earth all those months ago. At times it seemed to Bellamy that he'd had his guard up continuously from the day they'd landed. There never seemed to be a moment to take a breath, to have some time to enjoy this new life. But it was still infinitely preferable to their old life, confined within an enormous metal box in the sky.

It had kept them safe - but it had still been a prison. A prison that had been fast running out of air, he'd later learned.

Bellamy was engaged in one of his favorite nighttime activities - searching out the constellations - when he heard a soft rustle beside him. He didn't reach for his gun, or even turn his head. He'd know her sounds, and her scent, anywhere.

"Some guard," she said lightly, teasing. "I could have been anyone."

Bellamy shifted towards her, a small smile quirking his lips. "Anyone who smells like Clarke Griffin."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted them back. Her sharp intake of breath told him that it was too intimate to acknowledge that her scent was as individual and familiar to him as his own.

Bellamy turned back toward the path and cleared his throat, unnerved by her sudden appearance.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, turning towards her once more. "Can't sleep?"

Clarke shrugged. "I never sleep very well anymore," she answered matter-of-factly.

Bellamy nodded his understanding. Sleep was often elusive for those of the 100 who had survived these past months on Earth.

She sighed then, her eyes darting away from his. "But that's not why I...joined you on this log," she said.

"No?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster as he wondered what she had to say to him.

Clarke shook her head, looking off into the night. "I needed to tell you...it wasn't...I wasn't..."

She stopped suddenly, as though carefully choosing her words, then began again.

"You said you knew it 'wasn't personal'. That everything that happened at Tondc, every decision I made was...impersonal. Just for the sake of the mission. But...that's not true." The words tumbled out of her in fits and starts.

Bellamy sat still as a stone, waiting for her to go on.

Clarke sighed again, straightened her back.

"I've thought about it over and over these past months. Some days I had little else to do _but_ think. I left Camp Jaha that day with the intention of raising the alarm, Bellamy, of trying to save them all." She turned and looked him in the eye, as though willing him to believe that her intentions had been good. "But when Lexa said..."

She paused and Bellamy felt his jaw clench when he heard the name of the despised Grounder _heda_ whose summons had precipitated this journey

"What exactly did she say to you, Clarke?" he asked evenly.

"She said...we couldn't evacuate because if we did the mission would fail," Clarke said softly, earnestly, and he could see the entreaty in her eyes. _Please believe me_ , they said.

"She said they'd know we had someone inside the mountain," Clarke continued to relate the conversation to Bellamy. "She said that they'd...look for you, find you...kill you..."

Clarke's voice trailed off and Bellamy nodded.

"She was probably right about the mission, Clarke," he said, conceding the point. "I hadn't found the acid fog generator yet on the day of the missile strike. That took several more days, and if I hadn't been able to move about freely, I don't know that I would have found it at all." He sighed. "You'd never have gotten close to Mt. Weather if the Mountain Men had been able to use it."

Clarke looked up at him. "Yeah," she said. "That's what I told myself then. And later. But there was so little time, Bellamy," her voice rose in agitation, as she remembered the pressure of trying to figure out what was the right thing to do with no time to second-guess. As she acknowledged what had really been playing over and over in her head.

"There was no time at all to come up with an alternative plan. And really, all I could think...all I could think was... _I can't let them find Bellamy...Bellamy can't die._ Not _the_ _mission can't fail,_ but... _Bellamy can't die._ "

Clarke sighed once again and when she continued, her words were so soft that he could barely hear them.

"So, you see," she said, "it really wasn't _not personal_ after all. I just knew you couldn't die, Bellamy. I had to make sure you stayed alive."

Clarke was silent then, and Bellamy's heart thundered in his chest as he tried to make sense of her words. _What was she telling him? That she'd decided, after all, that she couldn't lose him? That_ he _was more important even than the mission?_

If that was true, then why the hell had she left the camp - left _him_ \- for all those months?

He desperately wanted to ask, but before he could find the right words, he heard her yawn. Clarke laid her head on his shoulder, nestling in when he lifted his arm and wrapped it around her. She'd unburdened herself to him, and now it seemed that sleep was descending in waves.

"Can I just stay here for a while?" she asked, not looking at him. "I feel so sleepy all of a sudden."

"Of course," he said quietly, pressing her body into his side, reveling in the feel of her next to him. He hadn't been this close to her, hadn't touched her even this intimately, since she'd returned. There'd been no hugs, no quick brushes of the hand, no comforting pats on the shoulder. And now...this. She was curled up next to him and he could hardly catch his breath.

Bellamy tried to focus, tried to remember that he was on watch duty, but it was a losing battle. He fervently hoped that there were no potential attackers out there on this night, waiting for him to let down his guard.

"Go to sleep, Clarke," he whispered finally. "But just so you know, this conversation isn't over."

By the time Lincoln woke to relieve him, Bellamy was stiff from holding Clarke to his side. Lincoln said nothing, just nodded, unsurprised, when Bellamy picked up the still-sleeping Clarke and laid her down on one of the thin blankets they carried in their packs for sleeping. He lay down beside her, curling around her, much as she had curled into his side hours earlier.

He wondered how the hell he'd ever be able to sleep with her lying there next to him, the embodiment of every waking dream he'd had for months. Bellamy's hand reached out to stroke her arm lightly before wrapping it around her waist protectively, pulling her in as close as he dared. She was here now, back beside him, and everything in him was focused on making sure that's where she stayed.

That was Bellamy's last thought before his body gave in to exhaustion and sleep finally overtook him.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lincoln's travel plan was a good one, and they reached the capital as the early springtime sun was beginning it's descent toward the western horizon. Bellamy had no idea where they would lodge once they reached the city, but again Lincoln had a plan.

"Lain was a good friend when we were growing up," he told the others. "She married a man from another clan and moved to the capital many years ago. I sent word ahead that we'd be arriving today and asked if we might stay with her."

"But what if she has no room?" Bellamy asked, loath to be dependent on a stranger's kindness. Especially a Grounder's. "Or what if she's forgotten all about her childhood friend? Or her husband objects?"

Lincoln's lips turned up in one of his rare small smiles. "I introduced the two of them, so I don't think Daniel will object. And that is not how we treat old friends in the clans," he added.

 _'Just new friends'_ sprang to Bellamy's mind immediately, but he refrained from making this observation out loud.

The four of them passed through the gates under the watchful eye of the city guards and made their way to Lain's house. The capital city was far more populous than an ordinary Grounder village, and its main streets were wider and more congested.

When they passed a large building, far more complex than any Grounder building that Bellamy had seen before, Lincoln pointed it out as the Great Hall, the building used by the chiefs of the clans for the meetings. The building to which Clarke had been summoned by Lexa to a meeting two days hence.

But for right now, all Bellamy could think about was rest and food. Their mid-day meal had been small today, and he was famished from the effort of walking all those miles in just two days.

They turned, finally, into a street that was so narrow that it should, by rights, be referred to as an alleyway. Small unpainted wooden structures, built so close together that they were practically on top of one another, lined both sides of the alley. Lincoln stopped in front of one of them and raised his hand to knock, but the door flew open before his fist could connect with it.

Two people stood silently in the doorway, gazing at their visitors, trying unsuccessfully to hide the curiosity etched deeply on their faces.

"Daniel. Lain." Lincoln said by way of greeting, as the couple in the doorway broke into smiles at last.

"Welcome, Lincoln," Daniel said. "It has been far too long since we've seen you."

Lain nodded as she ushered them all inside and closed the door behind them.

Lincoln grasped hands with both of his old friends before turning to the other members of his party.

"This is Octavia," he said simply, and there was no mistaking from his tone the important place she held in his life, and their hosts both smiled and nodded at Octavia.

Lincoln turned toward Bellamy.

"And this is her brother..." he began, before he was interrupted by Daniel.

"I believe I have the honor of addressing Belomi kom Skaikru," Daniel said, inclining his head, "who destroyed the yellow fog and defeated the Mountain Men."

Bellamy blinked. _What the hell?_ he thought, wondering how anyone as far away as Polis had heard of him. He turned a brief, inquiring look on Lincoln, who gave an almost imperceptible shake to his head.

 _I've told them nothing about you,_ Lincoln's look said.

Bellamy was still pondering his apparent notoriety when his hosts' attention shifted to the woman beside him.

"Clarke kom Skaikru," Lain said quickly, "it is an honor to have you as our guest."

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a brief glance before Clarke spoke in a manner that he knew she probably hadn't had occasion to use since she'd left the Ark.

"Thank you both for opening your home to us," she said. "It's very kind of you."

Lain beamed, expressing both her pleasure in their visit and her hope that they would find their quarters comfortable.

Bellamy shook his head, thinking of all the places they'd been forced to bunk down during the months they'd been on the ground. Hell, the accommodations on the Ark hadn't been that great if you were a seamstress or a janitor living on Factory Station.

"We'd gladly sleep on the floor of this room," Bellamy said candidly.

Lain looked scandalized. Belomi kom Skaikru and Clarke kom Skaikru sleeping on the floor of their communal room? She and Daniel would vacate their own personal space before she'd let that happen, but fortunately it wouldn't be necessary. They had a small room that they sometimes used for storage, but it was empty just now. It would easily accommodate the four of them as long as they didn't mind sleeping in close quarters.

Lain eyed her four visitors closely and smirked when she decided that wouldn't be a problem.

They were hungry and they were exhausted, but Bellamy was reminded that they were also filthy when Clarke asked Lain if there was anywhere that they could wash.

"Yes, of course," Lain answered. "We have a pump in the kitchen, but I'm afraid the water is cold. But," she added, brightening, "tomorrow Daniel will heat enough water so that you may all bathe properly before you meet with the clans."

"A bath?" Clarke asked, her eyes lighting up. Then she looked down at her soiled clothes doubtfully, shrugging as if to say there was no help for it.

Lain eyed her guests and thought that some new garments might not come amiss, either. Even if she and Daniel had to raid their own meager supply of clothing.

When his hosts showed them the room they would have to share, Bellamy wondered if the four of them sleeping together in one small room might be awkward, under the circumstances, but fatigue soon eliminated any discomfort. After a quick wash and a welcome meal, followed by some planning for the following day's activities, the candles were extinguished and they all settled in for the night.

Using several blankets, Lain had created two separate sleeping areas on either side of the small storage room. Lincoln and Octavia lay down on one side of the room and Bellamy was relieved to see that they fell asleep almost immediately.

He stretched out along the wall on top of the other makeshift bed. If Clarke seemed in any way uncomfortable with the arrangement, Bellamy told himself he'd move out of the room altogether, even if he did have to sleep on the floor of the communal room.

But when Clarke finally appeared, she lay down next to him, curling into his side much the same as she had the night before under the stars. After a few moments, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him gently. He knew she was still awake and was half-expecting her to pull away. But Clarke didn't stir, and Bellamy finally drifted off from sheer exhaustion.

xxxxxxxxxx

When Bellamy awoke the next morning, he had a crick in his neck from sleeping for so many hours with just thin blankets between his body and the hard wooden floor. He saw that he was alone in the room, and a quick glance out the only window told him that the sun was already high in the eastern sky. He shook his head at the thought that all he needed to finally get a good night's sleep was a safe environment - and Clarke Griffin curled into his side.

Bellamy could hear voices in the kitchen, and when he stepped into the doorway he saw Clarke and Lain busily filling a large wooden tub with heated water, apparently in preparation for Clarke's promised bath.

Clarke turned when she heard him, gracing him with the brightest smile he'd seen on her face in many months. Perhaps she'd had a good night's sleep, too, he speculated, and maybe her reasons had been the same as his. Or perhaps, he thought ruefully, it had nothing to do with him at all and she was just excited at the prospect of a bath.

"Where are Lincoln and Octavia?" he asked.

"They were up hours ago," Lain responded with a smile. "They claimed the first bath, and then Lincoln took your sister out to show her the city."

Bellamy winced, preferring _not_ to picture his sister and Lincoln sharing a bath.

"I'll get out of here," he said to Clarke, "so you can get on with it."

She looked at him with a fathomless expression and said, "You'll be next."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head. The prospect of actually feeling clean, in addition to rested, was not unwelcome.

There was bread on the table, and Bellamy grabbed a piece quickly and slipped out the back door of the small house. He stood in the tiny garden, chewing his makeshift breakfast as slowly as he could, while at the same time creating a mental list of everything that needed to be done that day.

He was so used to having somewhere to be, some responsibility to fulfill every moment of the day, that the time seemed to drag as he waited outside for his turn in the wooden tub. At one point, Bellamy looked down at himself, frowning as he grasped that after his bath he'd have to redress his clean body in the same soiled clothing, but shrugged when he realized that there was nothing to be done about it.

Minutes went by, then more minutes, and he chafed at the inactivity, eager to begin the day. When he could control his impatience no longer, Bellamy moved impulsively toward the house. _She must be done by now,_ he thought, rapping on the door and pushing it open a crack to hurry her along.

And stopped dead, his body frozen in place.

Bellamy's breath caught as he watched Clarke rise from the tub, water cascading off her pale body, her hands lifted above her head to squeeze the moisture from her long, golden hair. She turned toward the sound of the opening door, and found him staring at her, unmoving, as though rooted to the spot.

 _Venus rising from the sea,_ he thought, remembering a classic painting by an Italian master of Old Earth that he'd seen in one of the many books he'd "borrowed" from the small Ark library. Access to the library had been one of the few bright spots in those last miserable months in space after he'd transitioned from carrying a gun to carrying a broom.

But unlike Venus in that famous painting, Clarke made no attempt to cover herself, seemingly as frozen in her pose as he was in his. Their eyes locked onto each other, Bellamy's filled with emotion he desperately tried to hide, and Clarke utterly unable to look away from what she saw in his face.

They stood there, immobile, for the length of a heartbeat. Two beats. Three. And suddenly, Bellamy blinked and he felt his mind clear just as the expression on Clarke's face changed from dazed to disconcerted. The red tide of a blush swept up her body as she tried, too late, to cover herself.

Bellamy felt the heat in his face, stunned that he'd just been caught ogling Clarke's naked body. Invading her privacy.

"Shit!" he said inelegantly. "I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't mean...that is..."

Bellamy stopped talking when he finally realized that she was _still_ standing there with nothing covering her body except the water from her bath, and he was _still_ in the room. He left abruptly without another word, banging the door behind him.

If he hadn't left at just that moment, he might have noted when the embarrassed blush on Clarke's face gave way to the smallest of smiles.

A/N: The painting that Bellamy remembers seeing is Botticelli's The Birth of Venus.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! How the_ hell _could I have let that happen?_

Bellamy Blake was stunned by the strength of his reaction to Clarke's naked body, and he dropped to the ground, his head in his hands.

 _She's more beautiful than I ever could have imagined,_ he thought, remembering how desperately he'd tried never to think about Clarke's body, or her golden hair, or the small mole above her shapely lips. He couldn't let himself see her that way if he was going to be able to hold her in the night, offering comfort to them both. Not and retain his sanity.

But that hard-won detachment was gone now, shattered by the glimpse he'd just had of the sheer womanliness that was Clarke Griffin. As he sat there behind that tiny house off an alleyway in the Grounder capital, Bellamy focused every bit of his vaunted mental toughness on trying to rebuild the wall that he'd erected in his mind between Clarke, his partner and friend, and Clarke, the beautiful, desirable, woman.

He was still in the yard when Octavia and Lincoln returned from their tour of the city several minutes later, and his sister frowned when she saw him.

"If you've had a bath, Bell," she complained, "you did a crappy job, because you look as dirty as ever."

Bellamy smirked, hoping his discomfort with the subject of _baths_ was well-hidden.

"Not yet, O," he said. "Um, maybe you could just check and see if, uh, Clarke is gone."

Octavia's frown deepened, averse as she always was to interacting with Clarke Griffin any more than absolutely necessary. Her brother raised his brows, though, and jerked his head toward the house, so she shrugged, opened the door, and reported back a moment later that it appeared that the tub was his.

Bellamy nodded, deciding right then that he wasn't going to waste time heating the water. Anyone who'd been bathing in streams and ponds for the past several months, as he had, could surely deal with a cold bath. And besides, he reckoned with a rueful smile, he could probably use a cold bath right about then.

When he was reasonably clean, shaven, and redressed, Octavia insisted that he sit on a stool she'd brought out to the yard so she could cut his hair.

"You're an important person, Bell," Octavia reminded him, as she wielded Lain's borrowed scissors through Bellamy's unruly mop of dark curls. "You need to look your best when you go to the Great Hall," she added, "even if Lexa only has eyes for Clarke."

This last was half-muttered under her breath just loud enough for Bellamy to hear, and he pivoted on the stool so quickly that Octavia nearly poked him in the eye with the scissors.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked, just as Lincoln, sitting nearby, uttered "Octavia," in a repressive tone.

Octavia huffed, ignoring them both.

"Turn around, Bell, before we have an accident with these scissors," was all she said.

When she finished a few moments later, Octavia pronounced her brother passable. She'd brushed his clothes as well as she could while he was bathing, and the total result was a Bellamy Blake who was far more presentable than he'd been earlier.

Clarke appeared in the small yard then, and Bellamy struggled to act naturally. He examined her for any lingering signs of embarrassment, but other than a heightened color to her cheeks which might have had any number of causes, Clarke seemed much the same as she had the day before. She was not ignoring him, nor did she seem upset, which was all Bellamy really cared about.

"Lincoln thinks we should learn the route back to the Great Hall," Bellamy told her. "Perhaps even wander inside. Let them know that the Skaikru are here."

He paused, deferring to her greater acquaintance with Grounder politics, and asked, "What do you think?"

Clarke nodded immediately. "I agree," she said. "If I can, I'd like to try to figure out why Lexa requested my presence before we show up tomorrow."

Octavia snorted softly, but when Bellamy turned to her with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, she just shrugged and said, "Good idea."

The four of them set off for the Great Hall, reversing their steps from the night before until they were once again traversing the main thoroughfare in the Grounder capital. Although it hardly looked any more prepossessing that morning than it had in the previous day's waning sunlight. Bellamy had seen plenty of photos of Old Earth cities, with their wide, paved, brightly-lit boulevards, and Polis didn't exactly fit the bill. But he supposed that it was as good a capital as Grounder society could fashion, considering their complete lack of technology.

He froze on that thought, stopping mid-stride, as it suddenly came to him exactly how the Skaikru could be of use to Lexa and the clans.

"What is it?" Clarke said, coming to a halt beside him. "What have you thought of?" she asked, seeing the knowing expression on his face.

Bellamy stepped closer to her, grasping her elbow as he leaned down to speak to her softly right there in the middle of the street.

"We had such a hard time of it this past winter," he began, and when he saw Clarke flush, he knew she'd misunderstood.

"No, Clarke," he assured her. "This isn't about you. The winter would have been just as hard on everyone even if you'd been at Camp Jaha." _Except for me,_ he amended silently. _It wouldn't have been as hard on me._

"What I meant was," Bellamy continued, "that we've had to completely focus on the things that we were unprepared for, like having enough food and creating adequate shelter."

"But...doesn't that make sense?" Clarke asked, frowning. "The very first thing we...you...needed to do was to survive."

"Of course," he agreed, nodding. "But the Grounders don't have those problems...or at least not to the same extent. They've had almost a hundred years to figure out how to survive on this planet. But what they _don't_ have - and what allowed _us_ to defeat the Mountain Men when they haven't been able to do it in generations - is our technology."

Clarke understood immediately. "And that's what they want from us," she said. "They want our technology to protect the clans from the Ice Nation. Or any of their other enemies. They want to make some kind of deal."

Bellamy nodded again, more certain with every passing moment.

"And," he noted, "it's not like they can just steal it, even if they could get their hands on it. Sure, now that the Mountain Men are dead, they could decide to ignore their superstition about guns, teach themselves to shoot. But everything else? Everything that Raven knows, or Wick, or Monty. Even the most basic things that you and I know because we haven't been locked in a primitive society for the past century. They'd need us to show them how it all works."

Bellamy and Clarke stood there looking at each other, all personal concerns from earlier in the day shoved aside for the moment, and considered how they could use this revelation about Lexa's probable motives to their advantage.

"Hey!" Octavia's voice broke in on them as she and Lincoln approached. "Why did you stop? What the hell are you doing just standing here in the middle of the street?"

"I think we just figured out why Lexa summoned Clarke," Bellamy answered.

"Yeah, like there was ever any mystery about that," Octavia said sarcastically.

Bellamy's eyes narrowed on Octavia. _What the_ hell _is she talking about?_ he asked himself, turning just in time to see Clarke eye his sister warily.

"I think we should keep walking," Lincoln said, "before we attract attention to ourselves. Clarke is well-known by description and some of my people may not be agreeable to her presence here in the capital."

Bellamy couldn't stop himself from looking around then, or from tightening his grip on Clarke's elbow.

"I'm fine," she said, giving him a soft smile and patting his hand, before removing it from her arm. "Lincoln's right. We need to keep moving."

Another five minutes brought them to the Great Hall, which they'd passed the day before as they made their way into the city. Like everything else in Polis, Bellamy thought, its "greatness" was only accurate in relation to the rest of Grounder architecture. It certainly wouldn't be considered a "Great Hall" in any society of Old Earth, except maybe the Norsemen.

Unlike most structures in the city, which seemed to be built practically on top of one another, the Great Hall sat alone on a small hill, perhaps for easy defense if necessary, Bellamy speculated. It was wooden, like most of the new buildings, but several times larger than any others they'd seen.

As they approached the set of stone steps that led to the doorway, they each expected to be stopped at any moment and barred from entering, but that never happened. Instead, they walked freely into the Great Hall.

The building appeared larger from the inside than it had from the outside, Bellamy thought, as he scanned the large room they'd entered after passing through a small anteroom. The larger room was adorned with all the warrior paraphernalia that he'd come to expect of areas considered significant in Grounder society. Just as he was wondering why such an important place was left unguarded, someone stepped through a doorway at the far end of the hall.

"Indra!" Lincoln was clearly startled. "I...we did not expect to see you here." Bellamy thought he nevertheless seemed pleased to see her.

Indra nodded as if in agreement that it was unusual that she should be asked to accompany the _heda_ to a meeting in the capital. She and Lincoln both understood that she was a warrior, not a politician, but that she followed the Commander to wherever her presence might be required.

Bellamy watched as she acknowledged Lincoln, ignoring the women for the moment. And then she was approaching him, and he straightened as she stopped just a couple of feet in front of him.

"Belomi kom Skaikru," she said, making it a statement, and it was clear that she recognized him. While he had seen Indra at the banquet on that terrible night when Gustus had plotted to break the alliance with his poisoned drink, they had never spoken, nor in any way acknowledged one another. In fact, her animosity toward him that evening had been plainly in evidence.

Bellamy spoke to her now. "I am," he confirmed. "And you are Indra, who spent some time teaching my sister to become a warrior."

Indra responded with a brief nod, then turned toward Octavia, her face expressionless.

"You retrieved your brother," she said, stating the obvious.

Octavia nodded, her back stiff, clearly still unrepentant about ignoring Indra's orders to leave Mt. Weather all those months ago.

"It was wise of you," Indra said to the astonished Octavia. "Belomi kom Skaikru is not a man who should be left behind."

Indra's eyes flickered over to Clarke fleetingly, as if daring her to disagree, but Clarke only stared at her in return. Indra nodded then, seemingly satisfied, before she spoke again.

"You will follow me," she said, giving them no choice in the matter.

The Grounder warrior led them through a doorway and down a hallway toward a room at the very end of the building.

"I have brought the Skaikru, _heda_ ," she said, and as they entered the room Bellamy saw Lexa seated at the center of a long table.

Lexa nodded her dismissal, and Indra left her chief alone with the visitors.

The Commander looked them over: the ally she'd betrayed, the woman who'd refused to follow her orders to retreat, and the man who had escaped her confinement. And then her eyes, like Indra's before her, finally came to rest upon Bellamy Blake. But unlike Indra, Lexa's eyes hardened when she looked at him, and showed no trace of admiration.

Her words, nevertheless, were conciliatory.

"Well done, Belomi kom Skaikru," she said, gazing at him steadily. "You freed my people from their cages, and for that I must...thank you."

 _And for that service,_ he wanted to respond, _you left us there to die._ But Bellamy held his tongue, merely nodding in acknowledgement of her sentiments, his eyes narrowing as he waited to hear why she'd asked that they be brought to her.

Lexa's eyes flicked briefly over Lincoln and Octavia, and they returned her look with blank stares. And then the _heda's_ eyes stole to Clarke, and the look Lexa gave her was just a little uncertain.

"So I see you have brought your second to this meeting, Clarke," she said finally, recovering her aplomb. "It is not...usual for us to have a man as a second, but we...accept that the Skaikru may have different ways."

Lexa was all graciousness and Bellamy didn't believe a damn word she said. He could feel down to his toes that there was an undercurrent in the room, and he told himself that the tension must have to do with Lexa's betrayal of the alliance at Mt. Weather.

He waited for Clarke's response, waited for her to explain that they didn't have "seconds," waited for her to perhaps wander a little into the Ark's political system. So he wasn't at all surprised by her first words.

"Bellamy is not my second, Lexa," she said. "We don't have seconds in our...society. Bellamy and I have been co-leaders. Although," she added, glancing at him regretfully out of the corner of her eye, "I've left him to do everything himself lately, and for that, I'm sorry."

She turned back toward Lexa then and when she continued, her next words were not at all what he might have expected.

"And besides," Clarke said very deliberately, "Bellamy Blake is second to no one."

Bellamy was just about able to restrain his jaw from dropping and his head from whipping around towards Clarke. _What the hell does she mean by that?_ he asked himself.

Lexa stood abruptly, her face a mask, the habit of command evident in every line of her body.

"Clarke," she said, "there's something I'd like to discuss with you in private. The others may leave."

There wasn't a chance in hell _that_ was happening, Bellamy thought, but when he made to insist that he was staying, Clarke turned to him and put a hand on his arm.

"It's okay, Bellamy," she said softly. "I won't be long."

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying desperately to figure out what was going on.

"Go ahead," she said, including Lincoln and Octavia in her glance. "All of you. I'll be fine."

Lincoln nodded solemnly, apparently trusting Clarke's judgment, but Bellamy saw his sister give Clarke a look of contempt.

Bellamy was more confused than ever as he watched their two companions leave the room.

"Please don't worry, Bellamy," Clarke whispered, her voice and her face entreating him to have faith that she knew what she was doing.

He nodded finally, one brisk movement of his head.

"If you're not out of here in ten minutes, I'm coming back in to get you," he said softly, looking over at Lexa, who returned his pointed glare with one of her own.

Clarke nodded. "It won't take that long," she said.

xxxxxxxxxx

When Bellamy emerged into the sunlight, he found Lincoln and Octavia arguing quietly next to the stone steps.

"He needs to know," Octavia was saying, determination in her voice.

"It's not our concern," Lincoln countered calmly. "Also, it may not be what you think."

 _Okay, that's it,_ Bellamy thought.

He reached the pair in a few quick strides and the words tumbled out of him.

"Tell me, Octavia," he said, more harshly than he intended. "Just spit it out, because I'm sick of all the hints and the sly looks. So let's have it."

"Right here? Right now?" she asked, seemingly reluctant now that she had his attention.

"Yes, right now before Clarke comes back. I gave them only ten minutes."

"Well, hell," Octavia said with a smirk. "I don't think that'll be anywhere near enough time!"

"Enough time for what, O?" Bellamy asked, determined to get a straight answer.

"Enough time for Lexa to get into Clarke's pants, big brother." When she saw the look of disbelief on his face, Octavia continued vehemently. "Dammit, Bellamy," she said, arms folded across her chest, the picture of confidence. "That's why Lexa sent for Clarke. It's because she wants her. Wants to be with her."

Tears sprang to Octavia's eyes when she saw his expression. She'd wanted him to know, so that he couldn't be hurt, but it was clearly too late for that.

"You can't just throw that out without explanation," Bellamy said tightly, waiting for her to continue.

"Not here in the middle of the street, Bell," Octavia said. "Let's...walk back to Lain's house and we can talk."

"I'm not leaving here without Clarke," he said quietly.

"I can stay and wait for Clarke," Lincoln offered, his eyes on Bellamy. "I promise to bring her back safely."

Reluctant as he was to leave Clarke's safety in anyone's hands but his own, Bellamy knew that Lincoln would keep his word. And he needed to hear whatever it was that Octavia kept trying to tell him.

He finally nodded, agreeing to the plan. "I'll expect you both back soon," was all he said to Lincoln.

Bellamy started off at a fast clip, his long legs eating up the pathway, while the much shorter Octavia struggled to keep up. He tried to keep his mind blank until he heard what his sister had to say. The rapid pace had them back at their hosts' small house in half the time it had taken them to reach the Great Hall, and they found the tiny back garden blessedly empty.

The stool they'd used for his haircut earlier was still in the middle of the yard, and Bellamy indicated that Octavia should take a seat, while he himself leaned against one of the stilts on which the house had been built.

"All right," he said. "Let's have it. Everything you've been trying to say without saying it for weeks now."

Octavia sighed, not sure how to begin.

"There was...something going on between Clarke and Lexa while we were waiting for the battle to begin, waiting to march to Mt. Weather," she said finally, her face carefully blank. "Something...personal."

"And you know this...how?" Bellamy asked, eyebrow quirked, biting out the question.

"There was...a kiss," Octavia told him, and began to speak rapidly. "I'm sure they thought they were alone, but in a camp like that? Well, nothing is ever a secret."

"What kind of kiss?" he asked, still not sure he understood. "Kisses can mean a lot of things..."

"Dammit, Bellamy!" Octavia said in exasperation. "They were _seen_! They didn't know it, but they were seen. And from what I heard, it was the kind of kiss you give someone when you want to do a lot more than kiss."

"From what you heard?" Bellamy felt his guts twist.

"Look, Bell," she said, determined that he should see, "it was an open secret that Lexa had the hots for Clarke. And there was some...resentment because of it. The Grounders thought Lexa was being played. But as it turns out, it was Clarke who got the shaft," Octavia finished with contempt.

Bellamy pushed away from the house and began pacing rapidly up and down the small space, trying to understand. It didn't make sense to him, any of it.

"Clarke and...Lexa? But she was with...Finn before. She loved _Finn_."

His face was a mask of bewilderment.

Octavia groaned. "Come on, Bell," she said, disbelieving. "Maybe none of _your_ conquests also liked women in that way, but it's hardly unusual."

Bellamy flushed. Of course he knew that, but it wasn't the kind of subject that he thought he'd ever be discussing with his baby sister. And, dammit! If Clarke decided she wanted to be with a woman, and not...him...did it have to be _that_ woman?

"Wait a minute," he said, finally recalling exactly what it was his sister had said. "Is your resentment of Clarke - or at least _some_ of your resentment - because you think she was - I don't know - duped because she was some...some...lovestruck fool? Because if you think that, then you're out of your fucking mind!"

He looked at Octavia's face, saw her obstinate expression, and tried to make her understand the one thing that he was sure about.

"Listen, O, I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy about what you just told me, but there's no way in hell that Clarke was swayed into doing something she didn't believe was right because of some...some _romantic notion._ "

"But, Bell," Octavia said, clearly distraught, "look at the evidence. Clarke came to Tondc to warn everyone, but then she didn't. And that's down to Lexa. Lexa convinced her to say nothing."

"But it's far more likely she was swayed by Lexa's experience as a commander than anything else." Of that, Bellamy was certain. "For god's sake, O, Lexa was leading armies while Clarke was drawing pictures on the floor of her solitary cell in the Skybox. We, neither of us, ever expected to have to make life and death decisions. And it only worked because we did it together. But she was alone then. I wasn't around to help..."

"No, because she'd sent you away to die!" Octavia's response was bitter.

"Well, hell, you've just got a shitload of reasons to hate Clarke, don't you?" Bellamy said with a little laugh, although nothing that had been said in the last few minutes had struck him as amusing.

He sighed then. They'd had this part of the conversation so many times before.

"She didn't send me, O. It was my own idea. And if I hadn't gone, I'm...not sure what would have happened to the others. How they'd have gotten out."

Bellamy didn't want to make too much of what he'd done, but he tried to make Octavia understand.

"It took both of us to make it happen, but we had to split up to get it done, and that was...hard. And we both had to do things that were terrible, things I'd never want to do again," he added, thinking of the man he'd killed with his bare hands, and the small boy they'd irradiated just days later. The Lovejoys, father and son. He still had nightmares about them.

Octavia shook her head stubbornly, desperate to believe that her point of view was the right one.

"You're still defending her, even after what I told you," she said, disbelieving.

"Why should what you've told me make me think any less of Clarke?" Bellamy asked, shaking his head. "If anything, if she really had...feelings for this woman, then I'm...sad for her, because it makes Lexa's betrayal that much worse. She failed as a leader by reneging on an alliance, and as a human being by leaving her allies to die. But if she also left a...lover to die, then that's pretty damned cold. There's not much that can be said in her favor."

"Well, she did get her people out of the mountain, Bell," Octavia pointed out.

Bellamy shook his head. "No, Octavia," he said. " _We_ released them for her. She just walked them out the door. And when she did that, when she made her deal with the devil, she left the rest of us with almost no options. And the minute Dante, and Cage, refused to let our people leave, the only possible outcome was genocide. It would either be our people...or theirs."

Bellamy smiled sardonically. "And I'm pretty sure Lexa understood that. She just thought it would go the other way. But she underestimated Clarke." He paused. "I don't think she'll make that mistake again."

Octavia was silent as she absorbed her brother's words. When she spoke again, it wasn't what Bellamy expected.

"I...I just don't want to see you get hurt, Bell," she said softly. "I see how you are around Clarke, the way you treat her, try to protect her. As though she's your special responsibility."

"Are you...is this jealousy, O?" He'd never thought of it before, and it didn't seem likely, but he felt he had to ask.

"Of course not," his sister replied immediately. "I want you to have someone...like I have Lincoln. But you act as though there are...feelings between you and Clarke. As though you...mean something to one another."

Bellamy thought about that for a moment, then nodded his head. "There are...and we do. I'm just not sure what it is that's between us, but whatever it is, it's still there." Of that he was sure.

He looked at Octavia directly then and added, "And I still want it."

Whatever Octavia might have replied was lost when at that moment Lincoln and Clarke appeared silently around the corner of the house.

"What's wrong?" Clarke asked immediately when she saw him, her face a mask of confusion. "Why did you leave?"

"Nothing's wrong," Bellamy replied, moving quickly to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I just needed to talk to O about something, that's all."

Clarke nodded slowly, her brow still wrinkled, and Bellamy left his hand comfortingly on her shoulder and added a smile. He was facing Clarke, so he missed Octavia's look of uncertainty as she watched the byplay between Bellamy and Clarke. For the first time, she wasn't quite sure that she understood everything after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lincoln reminded them that they'd spent very little time in the company of their hosts, so when Lain and Daniel returned from their normal daily activities, the four visitors went out of their way to be agreeable. The three from the Ark told stories about what it was like to live in space, Lincoln listening just as attentively as his old friends.

"And do you know why you were summoned here?" Daniel asked Clarke, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, despite an exasperated look from his wife.

Clarke glanced quickly at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye before she answered Daniel's question.

"There's a gathering of the clans which begins tomorrow and apparently lasts for several days," she began.

When she saw them nod, Clarke understood that of course they were already aware of that part. Daniel and Lain wanted to know what part the Skaikru would be expected to play.

"And I believe," Clarke continued, choosing her words carefully so that she might answer their question without giving too much away, "the clans think that...we...might have something of value to trade. So there are to be...negotiations. And I am to represent the Skaikru."

Bellamy shifted in his chair, as though about to say something, but Clarke placed her hand on his arm.

"I've already told Lexa that they'd be dealing with both of us. That Bellamy and I are a team."

Clarke smiled with real amusement. "Clearly, their clan leaders don't understand the concept of _team,_ but they're just going to have to learn it."

She looked over at Bellamy.

"They're expecting us at the Great Hall at sunset tomorrow. Apparently, that's when they like to meet."

Lain looked them over, frowning.

"I don't remember that you brought any other clothing with you, so...what will you wear to the meeting of the clans?" she asked.

Clarke glanced down at herself. "Uh...I hadn't really thought about that..."

Lain gasped, a horrified expression on her face.

"You cannot...it's the clan leaders...no, no, no..." She broke off suddenly, hurrying into the private chamber that she shared with Daniel, and emerging a few moments later with what looked like a bundle of rags.

Bellamy wondered for a moment if Lain thought that clean rags would be preferable to the soiled and stained clothing that they were wearing. But when she began to unwrap the bundle, he could see that it wasn't rags at all, but a garment that had been carefully preserved by wrapping it in pieces of cloth.

When Lain held it out to Clarke with a smile, Bellamy saw that it was a dress made of some shiny material, as unlike the usual Grounder clothing of fur and leather as he could imagine. The dress had been dyed a deep blue, and Clarke drew in a sharp breath in admiration, no doubt wondering, as he was, where Lain had procured such a thing.

Bellamy had never thought of Clarke as someone who cared about her clothing, but she was a woman, and he suddenly remembered that a lifetime ago she'd been the happy, carefree daughter of two Council members, and had probably had at least a few pretty dresses. He smiled as she stroked the cloth and lingered over its beauty.

"It's lovely," she said to Lain.

"It is," Lain agreed, adding, "You must wear it tomorrow when you meet with the clan leaders."

Clarke demurred immediately. "I couldn't," she said. "It's far too beautiful, too special. What if something should happen to it? I'd have no way of replacing it."

Lain's chin came up. "It is special," she agreed. "It was a gift from someone for whom I'd done a favor. I'm not sure where it came from or how he'd come to have it, but I think it must be from Old Earth. Some kind of magical cloth that didn't fall apart or fade to a dull gray."

Lain looked at her husband fondly, smiling in remembrance.

"I wore it on our wedding day," she said, "and then wrapped it back in the cloths immediately."

Lain looked at Clarke earnestly as she continued, and Bellamy could tell that this was important to her. "But it is unlikely I will ever again have an occasion to wear such a dress."

Her voice rose with excitement and determination.

"But you, Clarke kom Skaikru, you are an important person. For you to wear this to your meeting with the clans would bring me so much joy. Please," she said again, pushing the dress into Clarke's hands. "You must."

Clarke's face lit up as she fingered the material, and Bellamy could see how happy it made her to think about wearing something _pretty_ again. Her smile became rueful, and at that moment he felt like he could see straight into her head, and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Clarke," he said quietly. "Everything in your life shouldn't have to be about survival. About who will live and who will die. About whether _this_ day will be your _last_ day."

She turned toward him and he could see her struggling with the idea that she deserved other things in her life, things that were not connected to the daily struggle to simply endure. Things that were somehow...sweeter.

Bellamy placed his hand lightly on her arm. "The dress will look beautiful on you," he said. "I think you should wear it."

"And you, Belomi kom Skaikru," Lain continued, and he turned to her in surprise. "We have no matching finery for you, but we can give you a clean shirt. And if you give me those pants, I will wash them for you. They'll be dry by morning."

Bellamy was speechless, astonished by her kindness. He tried to protest, but was overruled by them all.

"You don't want Clarke to outshine you, big brother, do you?" Octavia said with a twinkle in her eye that Bellamy hadn't seen there in months. He was so surprised to hear his sister say Clarke's name without the usual venomous overtones that he made no further protest.

"Thank you," he said to Lain, turning just in time to catch the puzzled expression on Clarke's face. She, too, must be wondering about the change in Octavia's tone.

It was soon after that they all retired for the night, Bellamy stripping to his underwear and handing his pants to Lain to be washed. He tried to thank her again, but she pushed his thanks aside with a soft smile.

"I have not told you about my nephew, have I, Belomi kom Skaikru," she said quietly.

"Your nephew?"

"He was captured by the Mountain Men while on a hunting trip just before the cold weather set in."

Bellamy looked at her in surprise. "Oh?" was all he said.

"Yes," she said, "but he was lucky. Before he could be...harmed, the cages were unlocked and all were set free. He told me how he felt when that cage was opened. And how it happened."

"I...see," Bellamy said, unsure what to say about a day he never talked about. One he usually tried desperately to forget.

But he found that no further response was expected. Lain nodded and turned back to her task without another word.

xxxxxxxx

Bellamy lay on his makeshift bed a few inches away from Clarke and wondered how he could get his brain to shut off so that he could sleep. His mind and his emotions had been fiercely buffeted by everything that had occurred over the past few days, and he was unable to relax.

Bellamy hadn't lied to Octavia when he'd told her that he wanted whatever it was that was between Clarke and him. He just hadn't added how desperate he was to understand exactly what that was.

After the two nights he'd spent with Clarke curled into his side, not to mention the incident in the bath that morning - _oh, god, he willed himself not to fixate on_ that - Bellamy had felt more certain than ever that there was a connection between them, strong feelings that they'd both suppressed that were about to come bursting to the surface.

But what if he was wrong? Octavia's revelations about Clarke's relationship with Lexa - whatever the hell that was, or had been - had unnerved him. After all, he suddenly remembered, Clarke had never told him where she'd gone all those months she was away. Almost three months, in the deepest part of the winter. She must have found shelter somewhere.

Could she have been with Lexa? It seemed unlikely after everything that had happened. But then again, until Octavia had told him about it, so had the idea that Clarke and Lexa could ever have shared something as intimate as a kiss.

Dammit! _He'd_ never kissed Clarke. Not that he might not have wanted to, but there were always other things, more important things, _life and death things_ , to think about. It hadn't seemed like she'd be...receptive to romantic overtures. Not after the mess with Finn, with what she'd had to do in the end.

Was that why she'd turned to a woman? Because the only man she'd been with had turned out to be some kind of bloodthirsty lunatic? _Hell, no!_ Bellamy answered his own question immediately. He'd seen few people as uncaring about the spilling of blood as Commander Lexa.

Bellamy groaned in frustration, and beside him - but several inches away from him - Clarke heard and turned toward him.

"What's wrong, Bellamy?" she asked, and he could see the confusion on her face in the dim light of the new moon that filtered through the single window.

"Nothing," he answered immediately. "You should try to get some sleep. We need to be at our best tomorrow."

"I know that," Clarke said a little testily, never one to suffer having the obvious pointed out. "I meant...I meant...are you angry with me?"

"What? Of course not," he said hastily. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you turned away from me the second I lay down," she said, as direct as ever.

"I'm sorry," Bellamy said softly. "I promise you, I'm not angry. Come here."

He reached out for her, and she tucked herself into his side, as she had for the past two nights. Bellamy sighed, pulling her to him tightly. He remembered suddenly that he was clad only in his underwear, but it couldn't be helped. He could only hope that his state of undress would not cause any embarrassing situations to arise in the night.

They were both asleep within seconds.

xxxxxxxxxx

When Bellamy awoke the next day, Clarke was sprawled across him, still asleep. They were alone in the room, and it was all he could do not to give in to the temptation to wrap her tightly in his arms and kiss her senseless. But no, if he were ever to kiss Clarke, he wanted her to be awake and willing. And participating. That especially.

Bellamy tried to ease out from under Clarke, letting her have what additional sleep she could, but she spoke as soon as he moved his limbs.

"Morning," she said, and it didn't sound sleepy, or husky, and Bellamy wondered if she'd awakened before him after all, remaining still for reasons of her own.

Could she have wanted to stay wrapped up with him like that? His heart quickened at the thought. But fast on its heels came another thought as he remembered her private conversation with Lexa the previous day. He'd never had a chance to ask her about it, and she'd never volunteered any information.

Bellamy told himself that he needed to know what was said. They were both to meet with the woman that day, as well as a dozen others, and how could he possibly know what his attitude should be if he didn't have all the facts?

Before he could think better of it, he gave voice to the question.

"Why did Lexa want to talk to you yesterday?" He figured he might as well be direct.

She'd been smiling at him in the morning sunlight, but when she heard his question, Clarke's face went carefully blank.

"What do you mean?" she said, equivocating.

"I'm pretty sure that was a straightforward question, Clarke. Lexa spoke to you...privately. You said yesterday that we were a team, so as the other member of the team, I think I should know what it was the Commander...wanted."

Clarke rose to her knees next to him, and it seemed to him that she was carefully choosing her words. Bellamy began to wonder if he really wanted to know the answer to his question, but it was too late to take it back.

"And what if my talk with Lexa had nothing to do with the meeting? Do you still think you need to know what was said?" she asked, rising to her feet as he came to a sitting position, the blanket draped around him.

Bellamy felt his stomach tie in knots. If she had asked him such a question before his conversation with Octavia, he might have been mildly irritated. Or curious. But now that he knew about _them_ , that there had _been_ a them, his gut twisted in what he recognized as jealousy, although he'd never felt it before. He might have suppressed something similar when he first learned about Clarke and Finn, but now Bellamy was well past the point of kidding himself.

"Is that what you're telling me?" he asked, his voice tight. "That there was some other topic for the two of you to...discuss?"

Before she could answer, there was a sharp rap on the door, and Lain's smiling face peeked around the corner.

"I heard your voices," she said, looking at Bellamy, "and I thought you might like to have these back."

She tossed his pants to him as he sat cross-legged on the floor, his lower torso and legs still covered by the thin blanket. Bellamy gave her a grateful smile before she disappeared out of the room. He grabbed the pants and stood, hauling them up his legs, grateful that he wouldn't have to have the rest of this conversation with Clarke while wearing only his underwear.

They stood facing each other as he waited for her answer. He could see in her face that she was struggling with exactly what to tell him, but in the end she avoided the question altogether.

Clarke sighed. "I think we should discuss what to say to the clans, Bellamy, not rehash my irrelevant conversation with Lexa," she said finally. Turning on her heel, she left him alone in the room.

Bellamy could feel the anger bubble up in him, but he knew he had no right to it, and he swallowed it, along with his disappointment. He'd thought they were making headway, there in the forest when they'd finally begun to discuss everything that had happened. All those subjects that had been left untouched for so long that they were becoming several giant elephants in the room.

But that was before he knew about Lexa, and he told himself that maybe he'd had everything the wrong way around. Maybe her leaving had nothing to do with him and everything to do with having her heart broken by Lexa. Bellamy understood that he was torturing himself, but he couldn't seem to help it.

When he found Clarke in the kitchen, making a breakfast of fresh bread, he discovered that he couldn't sit there across from her and calmly discuss negotiation strategy. Especially since it appeared they were the only two in the house. He knew it was pointless, not to mention childish, but he grabbed his bread and went out the door to the tiny garden. The stool was still there, and he sat on it and ate his bread.

The bread was long gone but Bellamy was still sitting on that stool when Octavia and Lincoln reappeared an hour later. He was amazed to realize that he hadn't given one thought to their whereabouts. When he saw them, he decided that that was probably best since he was sure they'd disappeared to find some sorely-missed privacy. The city was surrounded by very dense forest that could have served that purpose.

Bellamy was surprised to find that he didn't mind, didn't feel the need to regulate Octavia's personal life any longer. _She's grown up,_ he thought. _Time to let go. In truth, probably past time. And she's safe with Lincoln._

As though she'd heard them approach, Clarke appeared in the doorway just then.

"I think we need to have a plan, Bellamy," she said evenly, looking at him directly. "For the meeting today. And maybe Lincoln could help."

Bellamy looked up with a rueful smile, aware that he was being absurd.

"Of course," he said, rising from the stool at last. "Let's go into the kitchen and make a plan."

xxxxxxxxxx

They'd been at it for hours, deciding on a posture for negotiation that they thought would give their people the best position in dealing with the Grounder clans.

"There's no doubt that you have technology that they want," Lincoln had confirmed, "as well as the knowledge about how it all works. Not to mention the tools. The clans from this area understand that if they can acquire this knowledge and this technology, they can be ahead of everyone else. Lexa wants that. She lost some face over the Mt. Weather retreat, and don't think she doesn't know it. But she believes if she can deliver this - better weapons, more security, even a better life - to her people, her position will be solidified."

"Clever," Octavia conceded.

"Yeah, but she still needs our cooperation," Bellamy reminded her, and Clarke nodded her agreement.

"So let's decide exactly how much we'll let them have, and what we're going to demand in return," she said.

The discussion was amicable enough, or at least Bellamy thought so. But when they finally broke up in late afternoon, Octavia was on him immediately.

"What the hell's going on, Bell?" she demanded, following him out the back door.

"You going to come and watch me take a piss, O?" he asked her, as he wandered off toward a private spot.

Octavia huffed, leaving him alone until he returned to the area just outside the door.

"I just want to know what's going on with you and Clarke," she said. "Everything seemed to be fine last night, and now you're both acting like nitwits, barely looking at each other. What the hell happened?"

" _You're_ asking me that? _You_ , O? You're the one who told me about...Lexa. You said I was an idiot to...to care about Clarke."

"Yeah, well maybe I was wrong, Bell. You seemed to think so last night."

"Well, that was before I asked Clarke about her private conversation with Lexa yesterday," he said bitterly.

"And what did she say about it?" Octavia asked.

"She said nothing, O. She wouldn't tell me a thing." Bellamy was clearly disgruntled.

Octavia paused to let his words sink in.

"So...what you're telling me is that you're pissed about a conversation, but you don't even know what the conversation was about. Don't you think you're being a little ridiculous?"

"I know it wasn't about the negotiations. She told me that much. But if was an...innocent conversation, why wouldn't she tell me about it? Why let me wonder?"

"You mean why let you go crazy?" Octavia said bluntly, shaking her head.

He could see that she was thinking it all over until finally she heaved a sigh.

"Did it ever occur to you, big brother, that Clarke has no idea that you know about her and Lexa? And that if she tried to tell you about the conversation, she'd have to let you know what happened between them? And maybe she doesn't want to."

"Yeah," he said dejectedly. "That's just what's occurred to me."

"I'm pretty sure you're looking at this all wrong, Bell," Octavia said. "I think you need to let her know that you know about Lexa, and then ask her again about that conversation."

Bellamy gave his sister a strange look and huffed out a sardonic little laugh.

"Since when have you become Clarke's champion?" he asked.

Octavia's mouth turned up in a smile, a rare enough occurrence these days when there was often little to smile about.

"After we talked yesterday, I decided to put everything aside and just watch the two of you. And last night, when Lain gave her the dress, her face lit up, and then the two of you looked at each other..."

Octavia's voice trailed off for a moment, and then she spoke again,

"I just want you to be happy, Bell. You need to clear the air, talk it all out. Otherwise, you'll just drive yourself nuts. And," she added with a smirk, "I can't help thinking the negotiations will go more smoothly if you don't have to restrain yourself from leaping across the table and trying to choke Lexa."

"There is that," Bellamy smiled wryly. "Not that I have a death wish, of course."

xxxxxxxxxx

He couldn't think how to do it. Bellamy wanted so desperately to have that conversation, but he didn't know where to begin. So the afternoon wore on without him approaching Clarke. When Lain and Daniel returned home, they all had a simple meal. If their hosts noticed any tension around the table as they ate, no doubt they put it down to the fast-approaching meeting and the delicate negotiations.

Eventually, Daniel brought Bellamy a clean shirt from his own small supply, and he tried to make himself presentable, shaving carefully with the water from the pump. Lain and Octavia disappeared into the spare room with Clarke, dragging the stool inside, so that Clarke could sit on it while Octavia arranged her hair.

Clarke was amazed and gratified that Octavia seemed to be offering her the hand of friendship, but not enough to let Octavia arrange her blonde curls in Grounder braids.

"No," she told the other girl, shaking her head. "Today, I want to be Clarke of the Sky People. The Sky People are the same - and yet different, because we have what they want. So I should look a little different."

Octavia nodded her understanding, and pulled back just enough of Clarke's hair to keep it out of her eyes, leaving the rest to fall in curls around her face. And she couldn't argue with the results. By the time her hair was arranged, and the precious blue dress slipped over her body, Clarke kom Skaikru was a vision.

Lain smiled at her conspiratorially. "I think it is time we show the other member of your _team_ ," she said.

Bellamy had been waiting in the kitchen in nervous anticipation, composing himself, so that he and Clarke could present a united front to the Grounder leaders. He was determined that their personal issues would be shoved aside for the length of the negotiation. They owed it to their friends to achieve the very best outcome for the Sky People.

That plan went to hell as soon as Clarke walked out of that room in that damned blue dress, and smiled at him. For all the world as though they were off to a party on the Ark, and she had nothing more important on her mind than whether or not he admired how she looked.

Bellamy felt his heartbeat speed up, but it seemed like everything else around him was moving in slow motion. Without a single thought, he reached out, grabbed Clarke's hand, and pulled her back into the spare room, shutting the door behind him.

"What are you doing, Bellamy?" she asked, bewildered by the suddenness of his move. "We need to leave for the Great Hall."

He stood there for a moment, concentrating on evening out his breathing, feeling very much like he did when he was hunting and had a deer in his sights.

 _Gentle, gentle. Don't spook her now._

"We can't go yet, Clarke," he said finally. "Not until we've had this out. Not until I understand what's going on inside your head."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He could see that it was the last thing that Clarke had expected.

"Bellamy," she spoke calmly, trying to redirect him toward their more immediate goal. "Whatever it is, we don't have time to talk about it now. We'll be late to the meeting."

"Then all those important clan leaders will just have to wait," he said, refusing to be diverted. "I really don't care. But if you're worried about being late, then I suggest the sooner we get this settled, the faster we'll be on our way."

When he saw her face, Bellamy wondered whether his earlier analogy to feeling like a hunter hadn't been apt, after all, because Clarke suddenly looked afraid. And that was the very last thing he wanted.

"Clarke," he said, reaching out to lightly stroke her arm. "Why are you so scared to talk to me?"

"What is it you want to know?" she asked stiffly, seemingly resigned to the delay. And to the inquisition. "Is this about...my conversation with Lexa yesterday?"

Bellamy sighed. "Maybe," he said. "I guess that depends on how you answer the next question."

Clarke pressed her lips together and gave him a quick nod. "Ask," she said.

And with permission finally granted, Bellamy asked the one question that had been tormenting him ever since his conversation with Octavia. Ever since Clarke had refused to tell him about her own conversation with Lexa.

"Are you coming back with us, Clarke?" he said, making it as simple and direct as he could.

"Back...?" She looked perplexed.

"Back to Camp Jaha. To stay. When we're done here." He wanted to be clear.

"But I thought I'd already answered that question," she said uncertainly.

'Yes, you did," he agreed. "But that was before."

"Before...?"

"Before...Lexa," he said with a sigh. "Before you saw Lexa yesterday. So now what I want to know is, are you going to stay here with Lexa instead of returning with us?"

By the time he got the whole question out, Bellamy's breathing was shallow and his heart was racing. He couldn't imagine that Clarke didn't see right through him.

She looked blank at first, but then a blush rose from the low neckline of the blue dress until it covered her cheeks and forehead. She sat down abruptly on the wooden stool, the only seat in the room. Bellamy crouched in front of her, ever mindful of the need to keep his clothing as clean as possible.

"Why would you ask me that?" she asked quietly, her eyes flitting away from him.

"Because I know there's something between you and Lexa." It was nearly impossible for him to get those words out, but Bellamy wanted to be as honest as he could. "Or at least...there was. While I was in the mountain. And you don't have to tell me it's none of my business because I already know that," he added, making every effort not to sound accusatory but very much fearing that he was not successful.

He thought for a moment that Clarke might stonewall him, might simply agree that the subject was, in fact, none of his business. But she did not.

"How did you...what did you hear?" she asked instead, and he could see that beneath her veneer of calm, some strong emotion was at work.

"Just that...I was told that...there was...a kiss." He shook his head. "That's all I know, but that's enough."

Clarke's calm appeared to desert her.

"Enough for what, Bellamy? You heard about...a _kiss_ , and you were ready to presume...what? That I was that same naïve girl who'd fallen for Finn? That I was about to take on a new lover? Or maybe you thought I'd already done that."

She looked at Bellamy and he could see the hurt in her eyes.

"Is that what this is really about?" she asked. "Was I such a fool that I let the Grounder leader dupe me into making rash decisions? I thought that you, of all people, would know me better than that."

"I do know you better than that, Clarke," he said, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant at all."

Bellamy ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Look, I know...I _know_ it has nothing do with me..." he began again.

"Stop saying that!" she broke in suddenly. "Stop saying it has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with you."

Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise, but he nodded at her, encouraging her to continue.

"Okay," he said, "so tell me. Tell me what happened to you while I was in the mountain? And tell me what it has to do with me?"

He waited for her to begin, but when she finally spoke, her first words surprised him.

"I missed you," she said. "I sent you into that mountain of horrors like it was the only course of action available. Like there were no other choices." She stopped, took a deep breath. "And look what happened to you," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Clarke," he said softly, looking into her eyes, "we've been over this part before. I needed to go. It was the only way to make the plan work. And besides, you know damn well it was my own idea."

"But you never would have gone if I hadn't agreed," she said vehemently. "You know that's true, Bellamy."

"Why _did_ you change your mind about that?" he asked, trying to deflect her thoughts before she could become weighed down by guilt yet again.

"It was something Lexa said," she admitted, shaking her head, "but I shouldn't have listened to her."

"Well, maybe she was right about that, at least," he said with a shrug. "It was what needed to be done."

"No, she wasn't," she said deliberately, declining to elaborate.

Bellamy wondered how she could be so sure of that, but before he could ask, Clarke spoke again.

"The one thing I never anticipated," she said candidly, "was what it would be like for _me_ when you weren't around. Because suddenly you were gone, and everything seemed twice as hard. Every decision that we would have shared I now had to make without you. So when I got to Tondc and Lexa told me what we needed to do..."

Clarke shook her head and sighed. "Lexa was a seasoned commander and she always seemed so sure of everything..."

"It's okay, Clarke," Bellamy interrupted again. "We've talked about Tondc. We don't need to do it again."

"But everything...afterwards," she tried to explain. "It all started with what happened at Tondc."

"What did?" he asked.

Clarke took a deep breath. "I haven't told anyone about this, Bellamy. And If I tell you now," she said, grabbing onto his hands, "I want you to promise me that you'll stay calm until I've explained everything."

"Okay," he said immediately. He would have agreed to anything to get her to continue, but he wouldn't break his promise. Bellamy knew by the set of her shoulders that this was something he wasn't going to like, but when she started to speak, it was the very last thing he expected.

"It's about Octavia," she said finally.

"What?" he said, his entire body rearing back, but she still held onto his hands. "What the hell does any of this have to do with Octavia?"

Clarke sighed. "Octavia is smart, Bellamy. No one knows that better than you. And the next day, the day after the missile struck, she...figured it out. That Lexa and I had known about the missile but hadn't...warned anyone. I tried to explain to her how it was, how dangerous it would have been...for you, but she wasn't buying it."

Clarke paused to clear her throat. "And honestly, Bellamy, it wasn't exactly my finest hour. How could I justify it to Octavia when I could hardly justify it to myself? The only good thing was...I knew you were...probably...still alive."

"Yeah, I think I've already heard about this conversation from Octavia," he said.

"I'm sure you have," Clarke agreed. "The problem was what came afterwards. I told Octavia not to say anything, and I tried to make her understand how dangerous it could be if people knew. I was pretty sure I'd convinced her of that at least, but then..."

Clarke's voice trailed off as she hesitated.

"But then _what_ , Clarke?" he asked. "What is it that you're so reluctant to tell me?"

She sighed in remembrance. "Our conversation was overheard by Lexa," she said. "I told her over and over that Octavia wouldn't say anything, that she could be trusted, but I guess Lexa didn't believe me."

Clarke watched him carefully as the words she never wanted him to hear tumbled out.

"Lexa ordered one of her warriors to kill Octavia."

 _"What!"_ Bellamy's reaction was both violent and immediate, just as she had known it would be.

Clarke wasn't surprised when he pulled his hands from hers and jumped to his feet, towering over her as she sat there on the stool.

"What the hell do you mean?" he asked, quivering with rage. "How do you know that?"

"Bellamy," she said, grabbing again at his hands. "Octavia is okay. Try to remember that."

"Still waiting, Clarke," he said, his voice harsh with anger.

"Please sit," she said, pulling at his hands. "I can't think with you looming over me like that."

Bellamy slowly resumed his position, crouching back down beside her at eye level. He knew she was right, of course. Octavia was perfectly okay, sitting out there in the kitchen waiting for the two of them to emerge. But still, just the idea that someone had wanted to have her killed. And not just someone. _Lexa_.

His jaw clenched, but he shook his head to clear it and forced himself to calm down. "What happened, Clarke?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "I figured it out, it doesn't matter how, and chased after the man Lexa had sent to kill Octavia. I got there just in time," she said, swallowing thickly as she remembered her absolute terror that she'd be too late. "And I... _persuaded_ him that he didn't want to carry out those particular orders."

Clarke sighed heavily. "And when we got back to camp, I spoke to Lexa and she rescinded the order. But she said ' _for now_ ', Bellamy," she told him, looking into his eyes. "I was so afraid that she'd change her mind again, that Octavia could still be in danger. I knew she wasn't happy that I'd defended Octavia. It almost seemed like it upset Lexa to think that I actually cared about anyone."

Clarke paused. "She'd already been asking about...about you."

"About me? Was she planning to have me killed too?" he asked, his voice tight.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "That wasn't it. She was asking about...how much I cared about you. Cared about your safety."

"And what did you tell her?" Bellamy asked, astonished that he had been a topic of conversation between Clarke and Lexa.

"I...I told her that I cared about all of my people," she replied, not quite looking him in the eye. "But...I...it didn't seem like she believed me. And then I remembered about...Costia and the Ice Nation Queen."

"Costia? The Ice Nation? Who the hell is Costia?" Bellamy was bewildered as the conversation seemed to skitter down a side path.

Clarke closed her eyes briefly, wondering how to explain it all to Bellamy when she wasn't sure she understood it herself.

"Costia was Lexa's lover," she clarified. "When they were at war, the Ice Nation Queen killed Costia because she knew that Lexa loved her."

Clarke sighed. "It was a...a... _cautionary tale_ that Lexa told me the day of Finn's funeral. _Love is weakness._ That's what she said. And she used the story about Costia to explain why leaders couldn't be weak. And later on, when we were waiting to march to the mountain, when I had nothing to do but wonder about everything that had happened, I couldn't help remembering that conversation, and I thought... _Is that how the Grounders try to control you? By killing those you...care for?_ "

She looked at Bellamy. "And I knew right then I didn't want her to learn...anything. About who I might care about, who might be special to me. I didn't want her to have anything she might be able to...use against me."

He nodded, understanding how she might have feared for them all. But at the same time, the words from her story were reverberating in Bellamy's head. _Love is weakness?_ That's what Lexa had told her?

Bellamy thought that idea was just so much bullshit. How the hell could love be weakness? He knew very well, after a lifetime of caring for Octavia, that sometimes love was the only thing that made it worth getting up in the morning. That connection with another human being.

But he remembered that Clarke had been vulnerable then, still reeling from what had happened with Finn. So...it might have made sense to her. She might have thought it would be easier to just shut herself down and care for no one at all.

Bellamy remembered, too, some other words, words that hadn't made sense to him at the time. _I was being weak,_ she'd said, and sent him to the mountain. And he hadn't known what the hell she was talking about.

 _Love is weakness. I was being weak._ Damn, he thought, squeezing her hands tightly, as understanding dawned. Damn.

"So why don't you tell me the rest of it?" he said softly when they'd both been silent for several minutes.

"Okay," she said, sighing, and began to speak again.

"It was later, when we...when Lexa and I...were talking about what happened at Tondc that I understood that she might have...personal feelings for me. I suppose I should have...figured it out before then, but we were so busy planning for the assault on the mountain that I wasn't thinking about anything else."

Clarke looked at him intently then, and he squeezed her hands again.

"I was trying to focus only on what was right in front of me, what the next thing was that had to be done. Trying to be strong. But at the same time, I was...lonely. My mother had gone back to Camp Jaha, and Octavia was so angry with me that she'd barely speak to me."

She took a deep breath, willing him to understand how it had been for her.

"And I missed you, Bellamy," she said softly, "and I was desperately worried about you, and at the same time filled with guilt because I'd sent you there in the first place."

Bellamy started to protest, as he always did, that it had been his own idea, but she stopped him with a tug on his hand.

"It doesn't matter now whose idea it was," she said. "It only matters that I was lonely, and feeling guilty, and afraid, and trying to keep all that to myself, because I had a war to fight, and right then that's all that was important. But it was so _hard_ , Bellamy. And the only person I was really spending time with was Lexa, and after a while I guess I came to depend on her...company. She, at least, understood the...the loneliness of being a leader."

Clarke paused then, closing her eyes. Perhaps against the onslaught of memories from those terrible days when she was so desperately trying to hold herself together.

"So when she was kind to me," Clarke continued speaking, opening her eyes and looking fixedly at Bellamy, "when she seemed to care about me...when she reminded me that she hadn't let me burn at Tondc, and then reached toward me and...kissed me, well, at first, I was a little...surprised. A little...taken aback. I'd never kissed a woman before, and I remember thinking how soft her lips felt. But mostly I was surprised because it was Lexa."

She stopped abruptly then, and Bellamy could see her going over it in her mind, as though she wanted to be as honest as possible about everything that had happened, everything she had thought and felt.

"It was...pleasant. And...and sweet. And, in some ways, so very comforting. Someone cared about me, wanted...me. Someone I...admired. At that moment," she swallowed convulsively, the words she was about to say bitter on her lips. "At that moment, we were in it together, we were a team, and we'd beat our enemy together. And I...responded to that, all of it. I kissed her back."

It wasn't exactly what Bellamy had expected, but it was still gut-wrenchingly difficult to hear. Without conscious thought, he loosened his grip on Clarke's hands, as if to pull away.

"Bellamy!" she said, looking into his eyes and grasping his hands even more tightly. "I'm not done, yet. You haven't heard it all."

Bellamy nodded. "Of course," he said, trying to quiet the turmoil in his heart. "Go on."

"I haven't told you everything else I was thinking," she continued. "It was all a jumble then, but I had time to sort it out later, and somewhere in the back of my mind I must have known it could be dangerous to reject Lexa. Oh, I didn't think that she would have hurt _me_ , at least not right then. But I was still concerned about Octavia. There was nothing that said Lexa couldn't reinstitute that kill-order, and how could I be sure I could stop it the next time?"

Clarke looked down at their hands, then, still linked tightly together. Her expression was earnest and her voice soft as she tried desperately to make him understand.

"And then there was you, Bellamy. You were so...vulnerable. Even after the army got to the mountain, I wasn't sure how I'd find you. How I could keep you safe. I remembered again about the Ice Nation Queen. And Costia."

Bellamy cleared his throat, afraid to ask but needing to know.

"What happened next?" he said.

Clarke shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I told her I couldn't think about anything...like that...then. I was...purposely ambiguous. I wanted...needed...her to remain on my side. On _our_ side."

Clarke gave a little laugh then. "Much good that did me. In the end, she broke the alliance and betrayed us all. And left us there to die."

She sighed. "But at least she did permanently rescind the order to kill Octavia."

Bellamy felt relief course through him. Perhaps, after all, he'd be able to prevent himself from leaping across the table and throttling the Grounder Commander. He had a sudden thought.

"How much does Octavia know about this?" he asked her. "The near-assassination? The threat on her life?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "She knows none of it. I thought...as long as Lexa finally came to see reason about Octavia, she didn't need to know. I was afraid of what Octavia might do if she knew. Or what Lincoln might do. And I wanted them both safe. I wanted them both...alive."

Bellamy nodded his understanding. He knew Clarke was probably right not to have told her, but he also recognized the irony of Octavia castigating Clarke and the choices she'd made, while all the while Clarke had been keeping Octavia safe. Bellamy shook his head. Someday, he thought, when life on this planet was a little more forgiving, he would tell Octavia all about it. But not today.

He sighed. "So what about yesterday?" he asked at last. "What did Lexa need to tell you that was so personal that it had to be said in private?"

Clarke flushed, but Bellamy wasn't sure if it was from anger or embarrassment, and for a moment, he wondered if she was going to put him off, as she had the day before. But then she began to speak.

"She wanted me to understand that there was nothing _personal_ about what she did at the mountain." Clarke's voice was contemptuous. "As though there could be a reason for breaking her word after _we_ made it possible for her to get her people back."

She paused. "I told her that was bullshit. That leaving us there to die had felt pretty personal to me. That she'd owed the alliance some loyalty and that what she'd done was dishonorable, not to mention cowardly."

Clarke gave a little grin. "She looked shocked. I don't think anyone ever talks to her like that."

Bellamy grinned in return. "Probably not," he said. "I wish I could have seen the look on her face. So is that all she wanted?" he asked after a moment. "To try to rationalize her actions at the mountain?"

The flush was back on Clarke's face then as she replied, "No, not...entirely."

"Then what?" he asked, quirking a brow, certain that they were now getting to the heart of whatever it was she hadn't wanted to tell him the day before.

Clarke straightened on the stool, suddenly looking everywhere but at him.

"She wanted to know if we...you and I...if we were lovers," she said quickly.

Bellamy was somewhat abashed. "She asked you _that_?" he said, disbelieving. "And did you tell her the truth?"

"I told her it was none of her business," Clarke said stubbornly. "That's as much of my truth as she was entitled to."

Bellamy was astounded. "But that will just make her think that we are," he said, rising to his knees in front of her. "You _know_ that."

Bellamy touched her chin, moving her head gently until she was forced to look him in the eye.

"Why didn't you just tell her that we weren't lovers?" he asked quietly.

For a long moment, Bellamy thought she wasn't going to answer, but then she took a deep breath, and gave a little shrug.

"Because somehow that didn't feel like the right answer," she said, barely above a whisper.

Everything in Bellamy stilled except his racing pulse. "Clarke," he said, her name a caress, his deep voice soft with emotion. His hand moved from her chin to gently stroke her cheek. "Then...why did you leave me? All those months that you were gone I almost went crazy worrying about you."

"I'm so sorry," she said desperately, covering his hand on her cheek with her own. "I never even...I wasn't thinking about that. The only thing I could seem to remember was all the terrible things I'd done."

Clarke squeezed his hand, willing him to understand. "You told me once that you were a monster," she said, "and that's just how I felt. Like I was...tainted. And...I had to get away from everything that I cared about. Every _one_ that I cared about." She paused for just a heartbeat. "You."

"But you weren't any more culpable than I was," Bellamy protested, shaking his head. "Wouldn't it have been better if we could have...comforted each other? Tried to help each other get past it?"

"Maybe," she said, sighing. "Probably. But I didn't think I deserved to be comforted, Bellamy. To have even a fraction of the pain taken away. To be even a little bit happy. Not until I'd done...penance."

"Did it help?" Bellamy asked, wondering if there was any course of action that could ever make either of them feel any better about what had happened at the mountain. He'd thrown himself into his work, and she'd gone off alone to do penance. His method hadn't managed to lessen the guilt and the regret, and he wondered if she'd fared any better.

"Wherever you went, whatever you did, did it lessen the pain?" he said.

"Not really," she answered truthfully. "Other than teaching me that I have to learn to live with myself no matter what I've done. You can't...there's no way to leave the past behind. It's with you no matter where you go."

Bellamy sighed. "And are you ever going to tell me where you went?" he asked. "How you tried to do penance?"

"Maybe. Someday. But I was never very far," she admitted, her face soft. "I could never make myself go very far."

"And, just to be clear, you're not planning on leaving again." He made it a statement.

Clarke's mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles. "I could never leave you again," she said softly.

He smiled at her then, and when she turned her face into his palm with a soft little sigh, Bellamy closed the distance between them without another thought.

She gave a little gasp when he kissed her, and he thought about how wonderfully soft her lips were as they moved beneath his. He was gentle at first, almost tentative. He could hardly believe that she was there in his arms. But when she gave a little moan, his control broke.

Bellamy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless and wanting. The whole world faded away, until it was just Clarke and Bellamy in that spartan room, and nothing else mattered. He felt his body react and he groaned in frustration because he knew they had to leave soon.

Clarke's smile was teasing when she pulled away. "Are you sure you wanted to start this right now?" she asked.

Bellamy stood up, pulling her off the stool and enfolding her in his arms. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in the scent of her.

"Maybe we can skip today's session," he said with a smirk. "Make 'em wait. There's always tomorrow."

"And do you want to be the one to tell Kane and _my mother_ that the negotiations failed because we insulted the clan leaders by missing the first meeting? You can follow up with a description of our important alternate activities." He could hear the laughter in her voice.

Bellamy snorted as he thought about that prospective conversation, but the sound was muffled by Clarke's hair. He pulled back to gaze down at her, marveling again that she was really, truly here in his arms. When he kissed her again, he pulled her as close to him as possible, as though trying to imprint himself on her body. Bellamy was overwhelmed, amazed that he could feel so protective and so possessive, and yet still be so aroused.

When they finally broke apart this time, Clarke was the one protesting.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and reluctantly tugging her towards the door. "Or I _will_ be having that conversation with your mother."

When they opened the door, four faces looked up expectantly. Three were blank, but Octavia smirked knowingly when she saw their hands entwined.

"Well, if we're past the drama," she said, "you might have noticed that it's almost sunset. Time to go."

Lincoln and Octavia were quickly out the door, already on their way, since they would be acting as the escort for the Skaikru leaders. Lain and Daniel wished their guests great success, and then Lain pulled Clarke into an embrace in the doorway.

"It's the dress," she said softly. "It's already brought you good luck today, and there will be more to come. You'll see."

Clarke blushed just a little as she thanked Lain for lending it to her and followed Bellamy out into the street. He was waiting to join hands with her as they walked hurriedly through the twilit city.

"I know it's made us late," he said, "but I can't be anything but glad that we talked. That we finally had that conversation."

She nodded her agreement. "But I don't think the conversation is over," she said, squeezing his hand tightly, as they rounded the final corner, coming at last in sight of the Great Hall.

Lincoln and Octavia were on the stone steps, waiting for their charges to reach them and be escorted into the hall.

When they reached the doorway, Clarke and Bellamy stopped for a moment to gather themselves mentally before they entered the chamber. Clarke had begun to move through the door when she felt a sudden tug on her hand.

"What is it?" she asked. "We really should go in now."

Bellamy smiled, bending down to murmur in her ear.

"I just wanted to make it clear," he said very deliberately, "that no matter what happens in there - or anywhere else - _our_ conversation will _never_ be over."

Clarke smiled in return.

"Do you think the clan leaders will find it odd if the members of the Skaikru team hold hands during the meeting?" she asked, looking down at their clasped hands.

Bellamy grinned. "Maybe...probably," he said, as they stepped through the doorway. "But right now I'm pretty sure I don't give a damn."


End file.
